


A Curse of Blood and . . . Bunnies?

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Books, Curse Breaker Hermione Granger, Curse Breaking, Curses, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Mystery, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, POV Pansy Parkinson, Potions Master Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Written for the Tag(line) You're It! fest.When Pansy encounters a troublesome book from her family's vault, she thanks various deities that she finally has an excuse to lock two of her favourite people in a room together to deal with the problem. The fact that they're both doing their best to avoid the other is, in Pansy's eyes, an added bonus. What better way to get two stubborn people to talk?A story about a cursed book, a library that refuses to let its patrons leave, and a poorly-timed use of a Latin incantation.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 25
Collections: Tag(line) You're It! Competition





	A Curse of Blood and . . . Bunnies?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tagline_Youre_It_Comp_2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> "Cute. Clever. Mischievous. Intelligent. Dangerous." (Gremlins)
> 
> ~~~
> 
> This fic is my homage to Anya in the wonderful episode (arguably, one of the best episodes in the series) Once More With Feeling from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Wee nod in there to Giles as well, because he's great.
> 
> Many thanks go to my betas - they made me look fab, y'all, seriously. Also, thanks to those people in the background who encouraged me to try. I wouldn't have made it this far without your support.
> 
> I had an absolute blast with this fest, and I really hope everyone has as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

~oOo~

“Alright, Parkinson, what was such an emergency that I had to leave my budgeting meeting?” Draco Malfoy swept into her foyer with all the majesty of a rather inconvenienced swan.

“Hello to you too, and you’re welcome,” Pansy said archly. “You know you hate those things.”

“True,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, they are a necessary part of my life now.” As he bent to give her a quick hug, Pansy felt the lines of tension in the taut muscles of his back.

_Theo was right—he’s one_ _potions experiment away from becoming a disaster headline._

“Now, what am I doing here, Pans’?” he asked. “Nothing is on fire, everything seems to be in its place…” Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you lose a bet to Longbottom again? I swear, if I’m forced to watch you do that thing with the scarves one more time, your boyfriend and I are going to have words.”

“No, you git,” Pansy said, swatting him on the arm. “There’s an issue in the library.”

Draco gave her a look. “And you think I’d be able to help with this because?”

“Because, it’s one of the books from the vault.”

“I thought the Ministry confiscated all of those books,” he said, looking surprised. _And_ , Pansy thought, _intrigued_.

“And yet, here we are,” she said with a grin. “Would you be a dear and take a look for me?” She fluttered her eyelashes in his direction, feeling very amused when he rolled his eyes in good-natured humour.

“Pansy…”

“Please, Draco,” she asked. “It’s one of the ones that Father hid away, it’s been acting up and making all the other books uncomfortable, and last time I was in the library it took me _three hours_ to get out because the library decided to be petulant and lock me in with it.”

Draco gave her an incredulous look. “And you want me to go into that same library and deal with it? What if _I’m_ locked in there for three hours?”

“Well, you’ll just have to work quickly, then, won’t you?” Pansy said primly.

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, and Pansy knew she had him. Shaking his head in amusement, he looked down at her.

“Remind me—why am I friends with you?” he asked.

“Because I’m cute,” she said.

“Mmm hmm.” He didn’t sound as if he believed her. _Rookie_.

“Clever.”

“Indubitably,” he drawled.

“Mischievous.”

“Hey, what happens between you and Nev in the bedroom…” He gave her a wink.

“ _Intelligent_.” Pansy gave him a pointed look, which he returned with a grin.

“Naturally.”

“Dangerous.”

“Ah. Well, quite. And I shall never forget it. Neither will Flint.”

She hummed, looking satisfied. “Speaking of, do you know if it ever grew back?”

“I think so,” Draco mused, “although it was slightly crooked. And mauve. And for the love of Merlin, please don’t ask me how I know that.” He looked vaguely ill at the memory. Pansy cackled, refraining from clapping her hands in glee.

Mostly.

“Alright, no time like the present,” she said, gesturing down the hallway. “Knowing Father, the bloody book has some sort of Pureblood fuckery ingrained in it, so enjoy that.”

Grinning impishly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and waved him on. “Good luck!”

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, heaved a sigh, and went in the direction she indicated, muttering what Pansy chose to believe were loving endearments under his breath.

About to turn and leave, Pansy was nicely surprised when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind, sleeves shamelessly rolled to expose deliciously tanned and muscled forearms.

“What are you up to, love?” A deep voice murmured in her ear as a true smile lit her face. She felt Neville place a kiss on her neck before resting his cheek against her hair, and she leaned backwards into his embrace.

“Oh, nothing,” she demurred, waving a hand languidly in the direction Draco had exited. “There’s an issue with one of my books, and I simply can’t have it disturbing the others. Draco is being a dear and helping out, along with a handy Curse Breaker I happen to know.”

“Oh, one you just ‘happen to know’?” She could definitely hear the amusement in his voice. “To whom, pray tell, did you gift this task?”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, we Parkinsons demand only the best.” She ran her nails up and down his forearms, feeling the light fuzz of hair crinkling under her fingertips.

“You didn’t.” Pansy felt him huff a laugh into her hair. Neville’s voice was a low, warm rumble against her back, and it did interesting things to her insides.

“What?” Her tone of innocence was the best in the business. “She’s the best there is, and I refuse to stint on quality simply because Draco has the tendency to overreact whenever he’s around her.” She huffed and turned to face him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. “It will be fine. This is an excellent idea, and—”

_“PARKINSON!”_

Pansy didn’t bat an eye, although Neville raised an eyebrow at the baritone bellow.

“An excellent idea?” he deadpanned.

“ _PANSY, I AM GOING TO **MURDER** YOU!”_

The somewhat more feminine shriek made Pansy wince. “Ah, why don’t we leave them to it, hmmm? There’s a lovely spread of patisserie waiting in the other room, we could sample a few whilst we wait?”

“Or,” Neville said, pulling her flush against him, “we could go upstairs, to our room, which is conveniently at the other end of the house, and find something there to keep ourselves entertained?” He leaned down, leaving the barest hint of space between their lips. Pansy watched the heat in his eyes bloom and felt a responding tug somewhere behind her navel.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Pansy said, looking up at him from under her eyelashes, her lips quirked in a smile. With that, Neville closed the gap with a searing kiss. She went up on her tiptoes, and with a groan, he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Breathless, Pansy pulled back, feeling a rush of love at the slightly dazed look on his face.

“Bedroom?” she gasped.

“Bedroom,” he nodded, chest heaving and hands grasping her legs. He stepped back and turned, the _crack!_ echoing around the now empty foyer as Neville Apparated them both upstairs.

~oOo~

Hermione had been a touch aggrieved when Malfoy had entered the library, and from his reaction he hadn’t been too keen on seeing her there either. That being said, five minutes of shouting later and the door had still refused to open, so Hermione decided to be the grown up and just keep on with the problem at hand.

“Stupid bloody door with its stupid bloody charms!”

It would have been easier to do if the other person in the room wasn’t still behaving like an adolescent.

“Malfoy,” she said, “Could you please stop yelling at the obviously non-sentient door, I am trying to work.” Hermione turned a page, studying the words scattered across the vellum with a frown. None of it made sense—the letters were strewn around in odd configurations, almost like someone had cast a _Confundus_ charm on the book itself.

_It’s like a mouse dipped its paws in ink and then ran all over the page._

“How can you be so calm about this?” he grumbled.

“By acting like a grown up instead of a recalcitrant child. You should try it sometime, it’s very soothing.” Hermione had reached the end of the book by this stage. Pursing her lips, she pulled out her wand and ran a few diagnostic spells.

_Ming dynasty? What in Godric’s name…_

“So, you don’t think Pansy is pulling one of her ‘I’m going to meddle in the lives of my friends’ schemes?” Malfoy asked.

“Now, why on Earth would she want to do that,” Hermione said calmly, looking up from her wand work. She’d been here less than half an hour before he’d come in, and if she was honest, she could admit that they’d both reacted poorly to seeing each other. Add that to the locked door, and Hermione knew that Pansy would be on the receiving end of some strongly worded reprimands once they were both out of here.

Which they wouldn’t be, unless they figured out what was going on with this bloody book.

“I don’t know, Granger,” he said softly, not breaking eye contact. “What possible reason could she have for locking the two of us in a room together?”

Hermione refused to break first. She could feel the blood rushing to her face—staring into someone’s eyes this long was very intimate. He was looking at her with annoyed amusement, but as she kept gazing at him it morphed into something else. Something deep, pulling at her, and—

Wrenching her eyes away, Hermione forced herself to look down at the book in her hands.

“Uh, so, why would the Parkinson family have a book with an Ancient Chinese imbued in it?”

_Smooth, Hermione, very smooth. Well done._

Thankfully, after a moment, Draco took her lead. “Their family is hundreds of years old, who knows what else they might have in their vault. I’d say a Ming Dynasty curse is the least of their worries.” His voice was light, although Hermione could sense an underlying tension. Shaking her head, she made another note.

“I shudder to think, truly.” That being said, if it came to it, Hermione would not give up the chance to look at some of the items in the Parkinson vault. Hundreds of years of Wizarding history? Sign her up.

As if he could read her thoughts, Draco said, “You totally want to do a full inventory, don’t you?” She flicked a glance at him, watching as he leaned back against the door, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles.

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

Malfoy chuckled. “I tell you what, Granger. Once we’re out of here, I’ll get Pansy to give you half an hour in the Parkinson family vault. You can search for artefacts to your heart’s content.” Hermione blinked at him.

“You would do that for me?” she asked.

“Well, it was pretty thoroughly combed through after the War, much like my family vault. But if there’s anything to find in there, I have no doubt you’ll be the one to find it.” He looked at her, something almost devilish in his smile. “And after this, I think she owes us.”

It took Hermione’s brain a second to catch up with what he had said, the look he’d given her still front and centre. “Oh! Yes, she definitely does.” Searching for a distraction, Hermione decided to utilise the resource.

“Here, read this,” Hermione said, thrusting the book in his direction.

“What?”

“Read this!” she said, waving the book at him. “I need to test my theory.” Draco gingerly took the book from her hand. She huffed at his reticence.

“Honestly, Malfoy, it’s not going to bite.” She made a few more notes as she waited for him to say something.

“It’s perfectly legible to me, Granger,” he said, turning pages. “Horrific handwriting, but those are definitely words, albeit not in English.”

“Excellent, that’s a good indication the whole Pureblood thing is accurate,” Hermione said, immediately jumping up and crossing to the shelves. She began pulling texts out, continuing to speak to Draco over her shoulder. “It’s odd, I couldn’t make any sense of what was written on the page. Spells didn’t help, even the ones I’ve created myself for situations just like this. Considering it makes complete sense to you, I’m of the opinion that only Purebloods can read it, although anyone can touch it.” She paused thoughtfully in front of one shelf, seemingly unsure whether or not to add any more to the pile. A brief moment of indecision, and then she swept half the shelf into her arms before making her way back to the table.

“So! Now, we research. Pansy’s library is fairly well-stocked, and I have no doubt we’ll find something quite useful here,” she said. “You carry on with the main text. Let me know as soon as you find something, I’d like to get out of this room sometime today.” He nodded in agreement, and after a few moments of fidgeting they both settled down to work.

~oOo~

They passed the time in relative silence, broken only by Hermione’s brief exclamations when she found something she thought may be useful. Draco took his time with the book—even though he couldn’t understand it, he could feel a sense of _something_ emanating from it. It wasn’t purely evil; he knew what that felt like. It was more a sense of… eagerness? Like it was poised on the cusp of breaking through and raining destruction on the unfortunate masses.

He had no idea what it meant and hoped that reading through it would help him pinpoint the itchy feeling on the back of his neck. Turning a page, he came across something he recognised.

“Huh. That’s odd,” he said, rereading to make sure he understood. 

“What?” Hermione asked, head still firmly buried in her books.

“Someone wrote an incantation in the margins in Latin.” Draco flicked through another few pages to see if there were any other annotations.

“I wouldn’t speak Latin around the books, if I were you,” said Hermione. She made a few more notes, the parchment she’d conjured growing to keep up with her.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You don’t honestly believe that guff about how saying _libre incendere_ causes some sort of cataclysmic ev—”

_Fwoom!_

Draco yelped and dropped the book to the floor. It landed with a thump, and after a quick _Augamenti_ he was staring down at a mess, the book now steaming gently in a puddle of water.

“I _told_ you not to speak Latin around the book,” Hermione murmured, nonchalantly turning a page.

He grumbled in her general direction, moving further away as the puddle grew, not wanting to get water on his shoes.

_Pop!_

The noise was startling in the silence. Hermione whipped her head around, a look of apprehension on her face, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she tried to form a sentence.

“Is that—”

“A bunny?” Draco said, proud that his voice was only marginally strangled. “Oh, good, I thought I was the only one seeing that.” They shared an incredulous look, both seemingly at a loss as to how a member of the _Leporidae_ family had all of a sudden materialised in their midst.

Just as Draco opened his mouth to query what they should do next, the bunny hopped off the book, landing with a splash in the puddle of water that was surrounding the text.

Draco and Hermione froze, caricatures of statuary held fast against the merest twitch of a whisker.

There was a pause, a moment where the air went completely still.

_Pop!_

Two bunnies were now staring at them.

_Pop! Pop!_

The quartet of bunnies moved in eerie concert, shivers running down their fur as they appeared.

_Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!_

“Oh, this can’t be good,” Draco breathed.

And just like that, the floodgates opened.

_Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!_

Bunnies were multiplying faster than Draco could keep track of them. They were spilling across the floor, paws tumbling as they bounced against each other.

“Malfoy! What did you do?!” Hermione shrieked. She jumped up and pushed her chair away, giving no heed as it tipped backwards from the force of her movement.

“Nothing!” he yelled. He still had his wand out from casting the previous spell, but he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. What kind of spells got rid of rapidly multiplying bunnies?

“Clearly not _nothing_ , Malfoy! Oh, Godric, no, no, no!” Hermione jumped up on to the table, moving with much more alacrity than usual. “ _Get them away from me!”_

_Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!_

“WHY ARE THEY STILL MULTIPLYING?” She was shying away from the edge of the table, standing right in the middle so that no part of her would be exposed.

“HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW, GRANGER!” Draco had managed to back away until he was pressed against the door. He jiggled the handle behind his back, keeping both eyes on the horde, but was out of luck. The room clearly didn’t want them to leave until this was sorted out.

“You’re the one that landed us in this mess, Malfoy!” Hermione yelled at him. “Do something about it!”

“It was a simple _Aguamenti_ ,” he yelled back. “How could I possibly know this would happen?”

“Why were you using a water spell around books in the first place?!”

“For the love of— _it was on fire, Hermione!_ ”

“And once again, _Draco_ ,” she said through gritted teeth, “I told you to _not speak Latin around the book!_ ” The seething mass had started to settle, the _pops!_ almost completely abated.

“Could we please focus on the problem at hand?” Draco said, shooting Hermione a look. “For instance, why did a water spell cause multiple bunnies, of all things, to appear, rather than grounding the magic in a curse?”

He watched her take a deep breath and gather her thoughts. “Cursed objects can be contrary,” she said, moving her feet carefully on the table. “Most people know that water can counter a lot of spellwork, so the casters sometimes work that into the curse itself, turning it back on the curse-breaker two-fold.” She looked down at the gathered mass now surrounding her. “Or, in this case, thousand-fold.”

“There are barely three dozen here, Granger, calm down.”

“Okay, when, in the history of the world, has the phrase ‘Calm down’ actually worked?” Hermione bit out. “Just, get rid of them, would you?”

They locked eyes across the room, and Draco swore under his breath.

_Well, fuck._

~oOo~

This time, it was Draco who broke first.

“And how exactly do you propose I do that?” he snapped.

“You’re a wizard, I’m sure you can figure it out!” Hermione growled.

“You’re a witch, _you_ figure it out!” Draco's face was a mask of calm; eyes steady and mouth set in a grim line. The tension in his voice, however, betrayed his fraying composure.

“ _You_ started this, _you_ fix it!” Hermione moved further up the table, gripping her wand in one sweat-slicked hand. Sure, she could break an ancient Syrian curse placed on an object that was set to obliterate half of Damascus if handled incorrectly without batting an eye, but this was… totally different.

_Hop._

“Augh!” The hoppy little fluffers were circling her, beady eyes locked in her direction. She grimaced, baring her teeth.

_Wait, are displays of aggression good in this situation? Or did I just make things worse?_

“You’re the bloody Curse Breaker, why do I have to deal with this?” Malfoy complained.

“You’re the expert in Pureblood curses,” she said through her teeth, “which this clearly is, so could you just get on with it already?”

“Okay, you’re going to have to walk me through that one. Slowly.” Draco clearly didn’t care about her mental well-being if he was just _standing_ there and _asking questions_.

Feeling her temperature rising, Hermione took a breath and swivelled in his direction. “Well, the bloody things aren’t focused on _you_ , now, are they?” She waved a hand in the general direction of the floor. “Oh, no, they’re playing quite the game of ‘let’s follow the Muggle-born’!” She watched his eyes flicker to the bunnies, then to her, and then dart around the room.

“That’s… actually a good point. Huh. They are focused on you, aren’t they?” Draco mused.

“ _Clearly_ ,” she bit off.

“And here’s me thinking they just liked you.” Was that- was he _smiling_ at her?! Her blood boiled, bunnies momentarily forgotten.

“I’m so pleased that my distress is amusing to you, Malfoy,” she bit out. “I can assure you, however, that ‘like’ has nothing to do with it.” She spared them a glance. “Animals can sense fe— I mean,” she stumbled over her words, cursing the fact that she could already see the grin pulling at his lips, “It’s clearly a curse predicated on Purebloods being safe and other interlopers being viciously attacked, that’s obviously why they’re after me and not you.”

Draco looked like Christmas had just come early.

“Were you about to say ‘fear’, Granger?” A broad grin was spreading across his face, and Hermione groaned to herself. A gleeful Malfoy, just what she needed. “Because if that’s the case, I think my day has just been made.”

“Oh, go jump in the Black Lake, Malfoy, I have no doubt the company is right up your alley,” she grumbled.

“I don’t know, the Giant Squid seemed like a fun cephalopod. I could do worse.”

He was still smiling at her, although this smile seemed softer, more amused. Uncomfortable with the sudden flush of warmth she felt in her belly, which had _nothing_ to do with his eyes or his face or his hands or— Hermione huffed at him. “I have no doubt that you have indeed done worse. Many times.”

Draco simply carried on smiling that smile at her, like he knew that she was only going on about his dating life to try and distract herself from what was happening.

Unsure of what to do next and desperate for a topic that wasn’t about her _completely rational_ bunny fear, she said, “Since you’re not going to do anything, let’s just… keep researching.”

“Alright, Granger,” he said slowly. “Let’s research.” Seemingly happy to stay by the wall, he summoned a few of the books from the table, along with his own notes, and started reading.

Feeling thoroughly out of sorts, Hermione thumped down on the table to sit cross-legged. The bunnies didn’t move, so she pulled her parchment closer.

_Research. Review. Don’t think about what’s happening a mere three feet away from you._

With effort, Hermione silenced the voice that asked whether she meant the bunnies, or the man.

~oOo~

“Hang on, this… this can’t be it. Can it?” Draco was flipping pages rapidly, front to back and then front again. Hermione was still sitting cross-legged on the table, refusing to get down and associate with the bloody little things.

“You have something?” she asked, giving the bunnies a glare for good measure.

“Possibly,” he mused. “This text mentions a curse that was popular at the time—grounding it with water wouldn’t work, just like you said, and it would actually make things worse,” said Draco. “It could take whatever form the caster chose, usually some form of animal or insect. Someone clearly had a sense of humour with the bunnies, though.”

“Speak for yourself,” Hermione muttered.

“Looks like we were overcomplicating things—”

“Shocking.”

“ _So,_ ” Draco said, ignoring her interruption, “all we need to use is fire.” He looked down. “Oh, and blood. Mine, specifically. Purebloods, what can you do?” he said, shrugging as he tapped the page with one finger.

“Fire.” The look on her face was borderline incredulous.

“Yes.”

“On a _book_?!”

“On a _cursed_ book, yes.” Draco cocked his head. “Fire purifies, much like water, and—”

“We got into this mess because you accidentally set the book on fire, now we need to do it on purpose?” Hermione tried to work through that logic.

“Okay, I’m going to remember that you admitted it was an accident and come back to that little victory later.” Draco took a deep breath. “To answer your question, that was a defense mechanism; this is not. For all the hassle, this seems like a remarkable easy fix.” Draco eyed the book with suspicion. “Is it too easy? Or—”

“What about _them_?” Hermione said, scowling down at the ever-attentive bunnies.

“The bunnies?” He blinked. “Uh, I assume they’ll disappear once the book is gone, since they seem to be linked to the curse.”

“How can you be sure, though?”

“Could you just, for once, trust me on this?” he said. “It’s either this, or slaughtering the lot of them just to make certain.” Seeing the look on her face, Draco snapped the book closed. “Granger, we are not going to kill innocent bunnies!” He managed to reach the table, the bunnies parting for him in a wave. “Merlin, they’re living creatures, we can’t just kill them.”

“I mean, technically, they’re cursed creatures, so—”

“No!”

“Fine,” she grumped. “What if they don’t disappear? Do we just let them loose on the general public?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he contemplated. “That doesn’t sound too terrible. Who wouldn’t want a cute little bunny to look after?”

“Those words did _not_ just come out of your mouth.”

He grinned at the look on her face. “You’re right, I must not… carrot-all.”

“Stop.”

“Ooh, I know, we could call on divine help!”

“What?”

“Lettuce pray.”

“Get out.”

“Oh, I would if I could, Granger.” The tension in the room somewhat dissipated, Hermione focused on the proposed solution.

“Okay, let’s get this over with before there’s an actual murder,” she groused.

“That’s the spirit,” Draco said. “Once I’ve done the blood bit, we should probably stand across the room for the fire side of things. And yes,” he held up a hand as she opened her mouth, “I’ll make sure the bunnies aren’t anywhere near you.”

“You do that,” Hermione said, uncrossing her legs. “Right. Bleed away, Malfoy.”

“Perhaps slightly less glee in your tone would be appropriate,” he said, drawing his wand. Hermione said nothing, grinning at the disgruntled look on his face and leaning back to enjoy the show.

~oOo~

The book looked so innocent sitting on the table. Even with Draco’s blood smeared on it, and knowing it was cursed, Hermione was not looking forward to this next part.

“This must be physically painful for you.” The blood-letting had been fairly uneventful, the cut already healed with a quick spell. Now it was Hermione’s turn. They were on the other side of the room, Draco holding true to his promise of keeping the bunnies at bay.

“You have no idea,” Hermione grimaced. Her wand was steady, however, and the look of determination in her eyes meant she knew it had to be done. “Here goes nothing. _Incendio._ ”

Hermione knew that books couldn’t really scream, but she swore she could hear something. Thankfully, the bunnies _poofed!_ into dust, so at least they were spared _that_ nightmare. The fire burned a deep gold-tinged green, and the acrid smell of burning leather filled the room. Coughing, they cast various air-cleaning spells, managing to get rid of almost all the smoke.

As the air cleared, Draco turned to Hermione.

“Wow. You are so going to book-lover hell for that.”

“Oh, shut up.” Burning a book. Pansy was definitely going to pay for that. Hermione shook her shoulders, feeling the tension release.

_At least the bunnies are gone._

Before Draco could say anything in response, a low hum filled the air, followed by a shark _click._ As one, they turned to the now-open library door. Apparently, the library had decided that the danger to its other books was gone, so keeping people trapped was no longer necessary.

“Burning a book to get out of a library. That’s definitely a new one.” Draco gestured to the open door. “What do you say, Hermione? Drink?”

“Gods, _yes_ ,” she said, not even pausing to think about it. “There is not enough Firewhiskey in the world to wipe away what just happened.”

“I don’t know, I reckon we could put in a pretty solid effort,” Draco mused.

Hermione grinned, a wicked glint in her eye. “Let’s go, Draco.” An answering grin split his face, and Hermione laughed as he followed out of the room.

~oOo~

Draco and Hermione exited the library looking none the worse for wear, conversing in low tones. Apart from a few singed threads and some streaks of ash, they looked remarkably put together.

“Oh, are you two finished already?” Pansy looked innocently at her friends. They stopped mid-sentence, heads turning to where Pansy and Neville were waiting. “I felt the wards on the library dissipate and thought it best to check on two of my favourite people.” Neville simply shook his head in fond exasperation at her antics.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “There will come a time, Parkinson, when I will return this favour,” he said, brushing off some remaining soot. “Wait on that moment and weep.” Glaring, he swept passed Pansy and Neville, Hermione at his side.

“He’s right, Pansy,” Hermione said, briefly halting in front of her. “And just think—you’re the one who managed to get the two of us to cooperate, so anything that comes out of this is really your fault. Dwell on that.” Hermione smiled brightly at her.

“Yes, yes, you’re welcome,” Pansy laughed, rolling her eyes as she waved them to the front door. It was adorable how scary they thought they were.

“Regretting your decision, love? Threats from two of the brightest minds of our generation are not to be taken lightly.” Neville drew her in tight to his side, one hand lazily stroking up and down her arm.

“I’ve had a few regrets in my life,” she said. She curled her other arm around his waist, smiling as she watched the two of them leave. They were still bickering, but Draco’s hand hovered in the small of Hermione’s back as he ushered her through the doorway, and as they started down the driveway Hermione grasped his forearm as she gestured with the other to make a point. Pansy relaxed into Neville’s arms, happiness suffusing her.

“But this—this is not one of them.”

~oOo~

**Author's Note:**

> Hermione's line about the mouse footprints is a nod to my old Classics/Ancient Greek professor. He used to say that if you stared too long, the words you were trying to translate started looking like mouse footprints, and that always stuck with me.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


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